Back in the Game
by FFYP-det-Yagami
Summary: A story dedicated entirely to Mihael Keehl and all his insecurities. Set just after the impromptu demolition of the Mafia hideout. Not really much else to say, other than it’s very serious, considering it’s me.
1. One

Blood streamed down his face.

He couldn't see. He could barely even breathe.

Mello tried to twitch his fingers. Nothing.

Was this it?

Was this how it ended?

Buried under rubble, his dead, momentary companions surrounding him.

Defeated.

This couldn't be it.

He couldn't let it end like this. Losing wasn't an option.

He couldn't let Near win.

Near was the enemy, not Kira. Kira killed L, Kira was evil – there was no denying that.

But Near _was_ the enemy.

No matter what, he couldn't lose now.

He _would_ be number one.

He would win…


	2. Two

Hours later.

He awoke.

With effort, he opened his eyes.

Darkness surrounded him.

He tried to twitch his fingers. It worked.

He hadn't lost. But he hadn't won either. There was still a long way to go.

He was trapped. Bleeding. Passing out. Probably dying.

But he _wouldn't_ lose.

He _couldn't_ lose.

He pushed his arm through the dusty rubble.

Slowly, every bone in his body aching with unimaginable agony, he steadied himself.

And he rose.

Eventually, Mello emerged.

He gritted his teeth, despite the pain. He'd lost so much time.

He had to get moving.


	3. Three

Mello staggered from the wreckage, his vision clouded with blood.

He _needed_ to win.

He couldn't give up.

Tearing off the shattered remnants of his mask…

…(stupid piece of junk)…

… his hand found its way to his pocket.

His phone.

He fumbled. After a few attempts, his shaking fingers tapped the right buttons.

He held it to his ear, and waited.

It was ringing…

"Yo?"

"Matt," he said. His voice sounded so weak… like a loser.

"Mello? Is that you? You don't sound okay."

"No shit," he laughed weakly. "Just get down here. I might need some help here."


	4. Four

When the call ended, he put his phone back in his pocket.

He felt disgusted in himself.

Dragging Matt into this. Needing _help_. Like a loser.

He hadn't made it out in time. His plan hadn't worked. They knew his real name. And now he needed _help_.

Near was winning. Again.

It was getting to him. Near was getting to him.

He had lost.

For now.

He _couldn't_ let Near win.

Waiting for Matt to arrive was unbearable. Mello felt weak, in every sense of the word.

The car finally drove up.

Matt tried to help him inside.


	5. Five

"I don't need help with this," said Mello. "I can do this myself."

"But you can barely stand. How are you supposing to get into a car?"

"I _said_ I can do this," he gritted his teeth. "I don't NEED help. Leave me alone."

"I thought you said you needed help."

"What I need is a ride, and a driver who won't ask questions."

Matt shrugged, and stood back.

Eventually, he clambered inside the car.

He was feeling faint…

… So weak…

As he settled into the chair, he could feel himself dipping out again…

…

Matt started the car.


	6. Six

Mello opened his eyes.

Half of the world was blank.

He raised a stinging hand to his face.

Bandages.

He could only assume that he was now in Matt's apartment.

A medical kit lay amongst the tangle of wires and electrical equipment that littered the floor.

Help. Something he needed, but didn't want.

"Matt?" he called.

"Yes?" came a voice from another room.

"How long have I been out?"

"About six hours."

Shit. He couldn't keep wasting time. He needed to get back in the game.

"Any more news on Kira or the SPK?" he asked.

"Afraid not."


	7. Seven

A plan.

What he needed more than anything was a plan. A way to get back in.

A way to _beat_ Near.

Right now he had nothing.

He had Matt. He had a shitload of burns. And that was it.

The only positive was that he wasn't dead yet.

…

Or, perhaps…

"Matt," he called again.

"What is it?"

"Hal is still living in her apartment, isn't she?"

"You mean Lidner? Yes, I think so. Why – what are you thinking?"

Mello tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

"Get me some chocolate. I think I've got an idea."


	8. Eight

Matt passed him his chocolate, and sat down next to him.

"So what's the plan?"

Mello carefully unwrapped the chocolate and snapped a piece off awkwardly between his teeth.

"I need to catch up with what's going on. I need to get ahead of Near. Hal is the key to that. Seeing as she's an active member of the SPK, she's kept informed with all of the information that Near _wants_ her to know."

His tongue pulled the chocolate into his mouth.

"I need you to give me a gun. That's all I need for this."


	9. Nine

"I don't like where this is going," said Matt, "but I'm not going to argue."

"Good," said Mello.

He relaxed into his chair.

All he needed to do now was wait until he healed up.

She would be the key.

The key to Near.

It wasn't a plan he revelled in. It wasn't really the way he'd want to go about it.

But it was a plan nonetheless.

He wondered to himself. Exactly how much did Near know?

It didn't matter… though it was satisfying to think that he could have the upper hand.


	10. Zero

Seven days later.

His wounds had healed quite well.

Of course, there was a scar. He had been expecting a scar.

A lasting testament to a failed plan, he thought miserably.

He weighed the gun in his hand.

No.

Perhaps it wasn't a failed plan.

He had lost. But only momentarily.

There was still all to play for.

Near had just as many missing pieces as he did. Maybe more.

And this, he thought, smirking to himself, was the time to up the ante.

The door creaked open, and he levelled the barrel of his gun.

Back in the game.


End file.
